


double time swing

by divinerenjun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Creampie, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, OT3, PWP, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, jungwoo is soft and yuta is sharp thats it thats the fic, mark lees coochie eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinerenjun/pseuds/divinerenjun
Summary: “We want to fuck you.” Yuta doesn’t even bother to close the door behind himself. Jungwoo doesn't spare him a single glance, eyes fixed to the laptop screen, thumbs still rubbing circles into Mark's hips. His silence is a confession to conspiracy.Mark takes the task of response upon himself. “Wait—you mean, like,” he swallows, “together?”
Relationships: Kim Jungwoo/Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 23
Kudos: 331





	double time swing

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday mark!!
> 
> some extra info:  
> \- jw makes mark uncomfortable in the first few paragraphs by watching him get out of the shower (mark is later shown to be okay with it)  
> \- jw calls mark a whore ONE TIME  
> \- mark talks about hydraulic presses? youll see.

Jungwoo wouldn’t call himself manipulative. He just likes to push the limits.

He puts it all out warmly for the fans, flirting, _teasing,_ hinting at deeper knowledge and a leg up on the other members through his confident cuteness and thinly-veiled-with-aegyo demands, only to retract, cold and calculating, once the members return to the dorm. Not to say he doesn’t still flirt, or tease, or demand. He just does it without pretenses, without boundaries, without the need to act cute. He’s discovered that bluntness is an easy way to make the other members squirm.

Particularly squirmy is one Mark Lee. 

Jungwoo revels in those moments when Mark steps out of the bathroom, towel cinched around his waist, hair dripping icy diamonds down his neck, and draws up short upon seeing Jungwoo waiting, watching, appreciating—Mark manages to be surprised every single time. He likes to see Mark get shy, flustered, start babbling about how they’re almost out of shampoo or how they have such an early schedule the next day—anything to avoid the topic of his own vulnerability. He holds his confidence over Mark’s head in those situations, stays silent until Mark eventually trails off, covering his bare chest with crossed arms and shuffling his feet, asking Jungwoo to please move from in front of his bedroom door. 

If Mark really cared, really felt uncomfortable, he would have learned by now to start off with that request. Jungwoo clings to this illusion of consent; it allows him to keep his eyes glued to Mark’s lips as he thanks Jungwoo quietly and nudges past him when he takes a single step to the side. It allows him to smile, satisfied, when Mark doesn’t shut the door behind him and instead drops the towel in full view. It allows him to kiss Mark’s neck and fuck him rough against the wall, door cracked so Mark’s moans might slip into the hallway and sing the other members to sleep.

So no, he’s not manipulative. Just enjoys watching Mark fumble around his honest expressions of impure intentions.

Yuta, Jungwoo concedes, matches his efforts with gusto. He shares Jungwoo's natural inclination towards bluntness. And towards flirting. And towards Mark Lee. 

Jungwoo’s blunt actions barely hold a candle to Yuta’s words. A single slip of the tongue, “ _Mark looks good enough to eat,”_ and Mark will nearly get on his knees in the middle of their kitchen even as everyone watches. Seemingly absentminded, castaway remarks that have been thoroughly premeditated, that’s Yuta’s specialty. 

There’s no better consideration for Jungwoo’s partner in crime. 

He approaches Yuta with the idea under the guise of a friendly dinner, pops the question over half empty beers. 

“Let me get this straight.” The grin on Yuta’s face is nearly feral, pointy and eager. “You want us to fuck Mark. Together.” 

“That’s what I said, yes.” Jungwoo is willing to play this game if he gets his way in the end. He _always_ gets his way in the end. “We could wreck him so easily.”

Yuta hums in contemplation. “Don’t get me hard in this diner, Jungwoo.” 

Jungwoo shrugs. “I just think he would look good in between us. Or in any other position with the two of us involved. I’m not picky.” Not entirely true. He wants Mark pinned on both ends, shaking and whining and unsure where he’s feeling the most stimulation. 

Yuta sips his drink and ponders for a minute before: “What makes you think he’ll say yes?” 

Jungwoo smiles, satisfied. “Oh, he’ll say yes.”

***

Jungwoo has Mark cuddled up against his front. They’re watching a drama together, something cheesy recommended by Johnny. Jungwoo’s not paying much attention, and he can tell Mark isn’t either. He keeps shifting around in his embrace, trying and failing to get comfortable.

Or maybe he’s just distracted by Jungwoo’s fingers sneaking under the hem of his shirt. It’s hard to say. 

Jungwoo’s rubbing small circles into Mark’s lower stomach, feeling Mark’s abs clench against each feather-light touch. He wants to get Mark worked up just enough to feel comfortable when the concept is proposed. 

His plans are cut short by Yuta knocking on the door and pushing it open all at once, any pretense at respecting their privacy evaded in the swift, startling motion. 

“We want to fuck you.” He doesn’t even bother to close the door behind himself. 

Mark feels the blood rush from his face. Yuta’s voice is nonchalant, as if this is a common, everyday request. His eyes betray him. There’s a glimmer of nerves there, but mostly they’re eager, shining with malice and hunger and making Mark feel so, so small. 

Mark wants Jungwoo to speak so that he doesn’t have to, wants him to smile and ask Yuta to leave, to scold him for interrupting them, to get angry and make Yuta confess that this is some prank in ill taste. 

Of course, none of this happens. Jungwoo’s still rubbing circles into Mark’s hips. He hasn’t even spared Yuta a single glance, eyes fixed to the laptop screen. His silence is a confession to conspiracy.

Mark takes the task of response upon himself. “Wait—you mean, like,” he swallows, “together?” His heart is leaping frantically inside his chest. He wouldn’t be surprised if it broke right out of its bony cage and skipped out the door. 

Yuta smiles. “Yes.” 

The confirmation causes all sorts of scenarios to race unbidden across Mark’s mind. Most of it is incoherent, just _skin on skin on skin._ In the few seconds he permits himself to fantasize, however, a few detailed images make themselves known, and he squirms in Jungwoo’s hold. 

Jungwoo tightens his grip. Yuta widens his grin. Mark lights on fire. 

His eyes dart away from Yuta and back again, then look him up and down. He shuts the laptop. Jungwoo loosens his hold, allowing Mark to place the computer on the floor, then chases him to the edge of the bed and wraps his arms around Mark’s waist, resting his chin on Mark’s shoulder and pressing them together back to front. 

Mark’s seized by a sudden bout of confidence. It makes him tilt his chin up to meet Yuta’s piercing gaze straight-on. “How should we start?”

Yuta closes the door. 

Jungwoo dips his hand past the waistband of Mark’s shorts. Mark jolts at the icy feel of Jungwoo’s fingers pressing into the juncture between his thigh and torso. He feels his chest get tight, wonders if this is taking it too far. Yuta is just standing there, looking as hungry as Mark has ever seen him: a lion stalking its prey. 

Jungwoo wraps his thumb and middle finger around the base of Mark’s cock, and all bets are off. 

Mark feels his eyes glaze over. It’s a dry slide, almost painful, and Jungwoo doesn’t let it drag on too long before switching his mode of attack. He hooks his thumbs beneath Mark’s underwear and drags it and his pants down at once, Mark lifting his hips to assist, then presses his fingers into the creamy skin of Mark’s thighs, gripping hard as Mark kicks the clothing all the way off. He hopes his fingers leave bruises.

Mark can feel Jungwoo getting hard against the small of his back, feels hot breath ghosting across his neck. He watches as Yuta drops his pants, then drops himself to the floor, shuffles closer to the bed and settles on his knees between Mark’s legs. Jungwoo, ever so helpful, hooks his ankles around Mark’s to spread his legs further apart. Yuta gives an appreciative smirk. It’s a little too pointed, a little too carnal.

“Don’t—” Mark’s voice gets caught in his throat. He swallows roughly, then, “Don’t break me, please.”

His words spark laughter. “Oh love,” Yuta’s pet name hangs in the air like acrid smoke, “I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep.” 

Yuta’s hands replace Jungwoo’s, and Mark tenses up as sharp nails bite into the delicate skin of his hips. He locks eyes with Yuta, watching as he dips his head to soothe with his tongue the crescents his nails have made in Mark’s skin. Mark feels like a spring being compressed by one of those hydraulic lifts he’s watched so many compilations of. If Jungwoo were to move his head from Mark’s shoulder, he would explode up from his seat on the edge of this bed and never come back down to earth. 

Yuta presses the flat of his tongue to the base of Mark’s cock and Mark sees stars. Yuta licks up the length of him, not hesitating to wrap his lips around Mark’s tip and swallow him down in one go. Mark’s muscles quiver and his arms break out in goosebumps. He feels _alive_. Jungwoo’s hair is tickling his cheek and Yuta’s nose is pressed snug against his lower stomach. Mark breathes out Yuta’s name like it tastes sugary-sweet and reaches back to card his fingers through Jungwoo’s hair, putting pressure on his skull to hold him close.

After a minute, second, hour, Mark can’t tell, Yuta begins to bob his head, hollowing out his cheeks and suctioning around Mark’s cock like a vice. It’s all Mark can do to not start fucking his wet mouth with every last ounce of power he possesses. He knows Yuta wouldn’t mind. 

Yuta’s lips are pillowy soft, his tongue wicked slick. Mark gasps when Yuta licks around the head of his cock, breathes heavily at the shock of Yuta’s breath ghosting across his wet skin and the light grazing of teeth against his tip.

Gentle lips press against Mark’s neck and he pushes deeper into Yuta’s mouth, sighing at the electric current that races through his veins at the kiss. Jungwoo marks a line across Mark’s jaw and down to the bony joint in Mark’s shoulder, biting as he goes. Each time his teeth connect with Mark’s skin Mark jolts forward, making Yuta gag. 

Eventually, Yuta pulls off, eyes and lips shining. He stands and grips either side of Mark’s face to kiss him roughly. Mark can taste himself on Yuta’s tongue. He knows Jungwoo is watching, knows he likes the spit that drips from Yuta’s mouth down Mark’s bottom lip and chin. Sure enough, when Yuta backs off, Jungwoo wipes his finger across Mark’s chin and lifts it to his mouth, sucking the saliva away with his gaze fixed firmly on Yuta’s lips. 

Mark feels very very close to insanity. He swallows, anticipating what’s coming next, and says “I guess I’ll get the lube,” if only so he can take a break from the strange sandwich he’s found himself in the middle of. 

He breathes easy as he fumbles with his bedside table drawer. When he turns back around, however, he has to swallow. 

Yuta’s caging Jungwoo in beneath himself, straddling his thighs and holding the back of his head like a lifeline. Jungwoo’s fingers are digging into Yuta’s hips, and as Mark watches Jungwoo moves from licking into Yuta’s mouth to kissing right on his Adam’s apple. Yuta drops his head back to sigh at the ceiling. Mark presses the heel of his palm against his dick and lets out a gentle noise of approval.

Jungwoo meets Mark’s gaze from the corner of his eye as he kisses across Yuta’s neck, locking his teeth into the skin right below his ear and making Yuta jump on his lap. Jungwoo pulls away to make a demand. 

“Take your shirt off.” It’s directed to Mark, and Yuta’s eyes snap in his direction. With the pair of them staring, heavy-lidded and fatal, pressed so close together, Mark’s knees nearly give out. He reaches back to pull his shirt over his head, slowly, slowly, and as he does Yuta and Jungwoo resume making out, neither averting their gaze as Mark’s chest is revealed inch by sculpted inch.

He drops his shirt to the floor and stands naked before them. Vulnerable. He shivers.

Jungwoo beckons him forward and Mark comes, pulls by strings, to sit on the bed beside him and look Yuta up and down. He admires the sharp line of Yuta’s jaw as it works to control his kissing, the elegant stretch of his neck, the tense muscles in his biceps. Yuta reaches out to grip Mark’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and pull him forward, giving Jungwoo’s mouth a final swipe of his tongue before leaning to bite into Mark’s bottom lip. 

Jungwoo cocks his head and watches, reaching between them to run his fingers down the length of Mark’s dick and make him jump. Jungwoo hooks his free thumb into the waistband of Yuta’s briefs, letting his hand rest around the curve of his hip, dipping no further. 

Yuta’s position is awkward and he pulls away after a minute or so, resting his temple against Jungwoo’s and looking Mark up and down. “You taste so good.” Mark tucks his chin to his chest, averting his delighted eyes. 

Jungwoo holds out a hand towards Mark and smiles, easy and expectant. Mark is confused until he becomes re-aware of the cold plastic bottle in his palm. He gives Jungwoo the lube and watches as Jungwoo pops the cap, grabbing Yuta’s hand and dripping some over his fingers. Yuta scoffs as he attempts to avoid letting the liquid leak onto the sheets. Jungwoo smiles at his struggle. 

“Finger him,” Jungwoo’s voice is soft and pretty as he leans back to rest his weight on outstretched arms. Yuta glances rapidly from Jungwoo, to Mark, to his hand, and back to Mark, quirking an eyebrow and jerking his head up to signal for Mark to scoot back on the bed.

Mark complies, shifting to lie on his back propped up on his elbows. Yuta clambors off Jungwoo’s lap and maneuvers himself between Mark’s legs, resting one chilly hand atop Mark’s thigh. Jungwoo turns to watch. 

Yuta’s hand slides up to grip the juncture between Mark’s thigh and torso, thumb just grazing his balls. Mark jolts, spreading his legs farther on instinct. He blushes as Yuta eyes him up, gaze lingering between Mark’s thighs before he licks his lips and presses his free middle finger in slowly. 

“Oh—.” Mark’s back arches and he drops his head back, mouth falling open at the stimulation. “Shit.” Yuta rests there for a full minute, watching Mark’s thighs tense up intermittently and admiring the flushed curve of his cock against his stomach. 

When Yuta finally moves, curving his finger up against Mark’s tight walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in repeatedly, he also shifts their position. He pulls Mark’s leg up, pushing it back until Mark mirrors the pose with his other leg and Yuta can lean forward, resting his hand next to Mark’s waist with Mark’s knees hooked over his shoulders. He kisses Mark’s stomach just to watch him smile. 

The next finger is added with little warning, just a sharpened pressure against Mark’s rim and then a slick, thicker slide into him. Mark looks down between his parted thighs and sees Yuta’s dick outlined clearly against the fabric of his underwear. His fingers twitch, eager to touch. His cock jumps, leaking onto his hip. Jungwoo reaches out to fist it a few times, running his thumb over the slit and making Mark gasp and shift against the sheets.

Yuta stretches his fingers apart, and Mark feels like he’s going to break into pieces, wondering if Jungwoo would be so kind as to pick him up and stitch him back together when he does. 

For his part, Jungwoo chooses to shift around and sit cross-legged behind Mark’s head, nudging his calves beneath Mark’s neck and taking the weight off of his arms. Mark’s hands move to fist the sheets. 

Yuta finger fucks him gently, stretching him open in a thorough manner. As he does so, Jungwoo dances his fingers across Mark’s shoulder and chest, running his thumbnail across the length of Mark’s collarbone to make him squirm and push back deeper against Yuta’s hand. 

Jungwoo’s fingers creep up to trace the curve of Mark’s throat, then forcefully tip his chin back until he’s looking up at him. Jungwoo licks his lips, then presses his thumb against the closed curve of Mark’s mouth. Mark closes his eyes and parts his lips, fluttering his eyelashes as the pad of Jungwoo’s thumb presses against his tongue. 

Yuta adds a third finger, and Mark’s ass clenches, lifting his lower torso completely off the bed. His thighs are taut against Yuta’s shoulders and he gasps at the stretch and the sudden strain of holding himself up. Jungwoo’s free hand scratches across his chest before he’s rolling one of Mark’s nipples between his dainty fingers.

White noise rings in his ears. Yuta presses deeper, searching, stretching. Jungwoo’s thumb is salty against his tongue. 

When Yuta finally brushes up against his prostate, Mark whines, high-pitched and aching, and begs “Yes, yes—Yuta hyung, please!” Yuta keeps the pad of his finger snug where it is, rubbing tiny circles, and watches Mark come undone. 

He gasps around Jungwoo’s thumb, hypersensitive to the warmth of his hand against his cheek. Jungwoo digs his nails into Mark’s pec, right over his stuttering heart, and Yuta doesn’t let up his movements even as he bends to put a tongue right under the head of Mark’s cock, making him whine and shake, jolting up against Yuta’s touch. 

Yuta leans further, and Mark feels his teeth dig into the skin stretched tight across the arch of his ribcage; coupled with the pressure deep inside him, the stinging stretch of his rim around Yuta’s fingers, Jungwoo toying absently with his nipple, and all the tension that’s been building up finally _snaps,_ for what he’s sure will not be the last time tonight, and he spills out over his tummy with a broken groan, fingernails clawing at the back of Yuta’s head to pull him away as he comes. 

“Fuck,” it’s nothing more than a groan, barely audible as he pushes up onto his elbows, Jungwoo’s hand falling from his face to rest on his shoulder, and watches his own flushed cock twitch through his climax, muscles shaking violently at the strain of holding himself up as Yuta’s fingers milk him for all he’s worth. 

His stomach is a fucking mess, sweat glistening along his waist, cum beginning to pool in the crunched lines of his abs, angry red lines from Jungwoo’s nails blossoming across his chest. Yuta bends to lick through the dirtiness at the same time that he pulls his fingers out. They catch on Mark’s rim before leaving him feeling empty. Yuta captures the gasps falling from his lips in a kiss, and Mark tastes himself on his tongue. 

Jungwoo giggles, little more than a gentle exhalation. “I can’t believe he came just from your fingers.” Mark shivers at Jungwoo’s cute intonation, shivers at how he’s referring to him like he’s not even there, talking over him to where Yuta is licking hot into his mouth. 

Yuta pulls away. Mark pants in the aftermath and lets his arms give out, head falling back onto Jungwoo’s legs— 

It’s not Jungwoo’s lap that he falls into. Mark’s shocked at first at the soft, plushy feel of the pillow under his neck but relaxes immediately, grateful for Jungwoo’s foresight and care.

The gratefulness is slightly diminished when he catches on to Jungwoo’s plan. 

He watches from upside-down as Jungwoo pulls his hard cock from his sweatpants and strokes himself: languid, smooth motions that have him leaking from the tip. Mark moans involuntarily, swallowing the urge to reach back and touch. 

Jungwoo shifts closer, walking forward on his knees until his dick is right above Mark’s upturned face. Mark closes his eyes, feels the moment that Jungwoo places his tip between Mark’s lips. 

Yuta’s nails bite into the underside of Mark’s thighs. Jungwoo pushes in. 

He goes slowly, giving Mark time to adjust as he stuffs inch after inch down his throat. The shaky breaths Mark hears him let out are music to his ears. 

It takes every scrap of will Mark possesses to zone out, to relax, to resist the urge to swallow and cause himself to choke. He fights the ache in his jaw with soft breaths through his nose, inhaling Jungwoo’s heady scent and timing himself on the exhales. 

Jungwoo doesn’t force himself in all the way, just enough to put pressure on Mark’s throat to stay open. And then he waits. And watches. And coos at the sight of Yuta gripping Mark’s hips and pressing the tip of his cock to Mark’s rim.

“Oh _fuck_ yes.” Yuta’s fingers dig deep into the soft flesh of Mark’s thighs, holding them close to his body as he pushes in slowly. Mark whines as the air is knocked out of him, and Jungwoo shivers at the vibration around his dick. 

Yuta drives home the last few inches and Mark jolts deeper down Jungwoo’s cock. Tears leak down the curved planes of Mark’s cheeks and soak the pillow under his hair. His fingers fist and release the sheets each second. His cock is already showing renewed interest against his hip, jumping regularly at the overwhelming intensity of it all. He’s sticky and horny and stretched wide around two thick cocks. What more could he possibly ask for?

When Yuta starts fucking him, he thinks that question is answered. He rockets against Mark’s ass slowly, nails biting into his hips, telling him over and over how tight he feels and how good he's being. With each compliment, Mark briefly tightens the bracket of his thighs around Yuta’s waist. 

Jungwoo can see the stretch of his cock buried deep down Mark's throat and reaches to caress along his own length, surrounded by tight, warm muscle. He still doesn't move, lets Mark choke and gasp around his dick as the boy balances the action against his ass with the cock in his mouth. 

Jungwoo reaches down to toy again with Mark’s nipple, and Yuta mirrors him on the other side. Mark’s hips stutter, jolting up with a tightening of his abs and Yuta feels an even tighter clench around his dick.

“Shit,” Yuta bites out, pressing in and holding himself deep in Mark for a minute before resuming his thrusts. He coats his fingers in the half dried stickiness on Mark’s stomach and uses it to ease the grip of his hand as he wraps it around Mark's dick. Tears fall faster from Mark's shut eyes at the overstimulation. He feels absolutely wrecked, and knows he doesn’t look much better—jaw aching, lips stretched wide, legs spread, cock angry red against his stomach. He feels used, helpless, lying on his back stuffed full on both ends. He loves it. 

Eventually Jungwoo decides enough is enough. He pulls out and watches Mark gasp and sputter, swallowing all the saliva that's built up in his mouth. "Flip him over," he demands of Yuta, who complies eagerly, pulling out of Mark and slipping back in in one smooth motion as Mark settles on his hands and knees. 

Jungwoo allows Mark 30 seconds respite, cupping his face, forcing his chin up, and thumbing away his tears. "You look very pretty like this, Mark Lee," he says, voice sickeningly sweet. “A pretty little whore.” Mark groans, low and eager. Jungwoo’s thumb dips to brush across his pouty, bruised lips. 

30 seconds up, Jungwoo grips Mark's hair, a vice, and uses his free hand to tap Mark's cheek with his cock, smearing Mark's own spit across his perfect skin as he drags the length of his dick across Mark's lips and hits his other cheek. Mark's looking up to watch Jungwoo's face, eyes hungry, vulnerable, blissed. Every time Yuta pushes into Mark from behind, he jolts forward, gasping. 

Jungwoo presses the tip of his dick against the flat of Mark's tongue, watching and feeling as Mark widens his tongue to curve around the head. He pushes back into Mark's wet mouth, biting his lip at the feel of Mark's throat readjusting, convulsing, tightening and loosening around him. Mark's jaw goes slack, his eyes shudder closed, and Jungwoo begins fucking. 

His fingers tighten in Mark's hair, his eyes lock with Yuta, and they match their pace. Each thrust of Jungwoo's hips pushes Mark impossibly deeper onto Yuta's cock, and vice versa. They've got him whimpering, choking, drooling out around Jungwoo's cock, helpless to do anything but take it, a little toy for them to play with. Yuta watches as Jungwoo's eyelashes flutter with each sound that rips from Mark's lips. 

“You’re so fucking tight, fuck,” Yuta’s voice is scratchy, hand planted firmly on the curve of Mark’s back to keep his ass arched up, an offering to the gods.

They kiss above Mark's arched back, sloppy and sharp as Yuta's teeth dig into Jungwoo's bottom lip. When he pulls away, Jungwoo gives Mark another break on the front end, circling his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm he feels is impending when Mark's tongue darts out to lap up the saliva and precum coating his angry red lips. 

Mark breathes eagerly, choking down lewd moans each time Yuta fucks into him. Yuta's rougher, faster, deeper, now that he doesn't have to worry about accidentally making Mark choke to death. Jungwoo shifts around to get a better view, pushing at the back of Mark's head to get him to lower it against the pillow and lift his hips up higher. He drops easily, arms giving out. Yuta appreciates the new angle, feels Mark's velvety walls even tighter around his cock. 

Just when Yuta feels himself on the brink, Jungwoo taps his hip. "Pull out," he commands, soft and delicious. Yuta nearly whines, resigning himself to a dirty look, before following orders. Hearing Jungwoo groan at the sight of Mark's hole winking closed and reopen at the loss makes it worth it, Yuta thinks. He’s not complaining about the sight itself, either. He traces a finger around Mark's rim, watches Mark's muscles tense, eager, and moans. Jungwoo fists his dick once, twice, reaches out to slide an easy two fingers into Mark just to hear him cry out, and then nods for Yuta to resume. 

Yuta fucks back in eagerly, watches Jungwoo's fingers trace patterns against Mark's rib cage, before he nestles his cock right up against Mark's prostate and comes without a vocal warning. He knows Mark likes the surprise. 

As he releases, he bends to nip at Mark’s shoulders. His antics are gifted by a shocked and satisfied gasp, Mark's hands fisting the sheets as he feels simultaneously the throbbing of Yuta’s cock deep inside him and the sharp blossoms of pain blooming across his back. 

Yuta pulls out once he’s littered Mark's skin with red spots, leaving kisses in the dimples at the base of Mark’s spine. He leaves the warmth of Mark's body, and cum oozes out without the dam of Yuta’s cock. Mark whines, and Yuta breathes deeply.

"Jungwoo," he whispers, awed. Jungwoo tears his gaze from the open-mouthed pleasure Mark is expressing into the pillow and moves to follow Yuta's stare. The two watch, completely entranced, as Yuta's cum leaks between Mark's lean, tense thighs. The skin of Mark's ass is pink from Yuta's hips, and, thanks to Mark's position, most of the cum is dripping down his perineum to his balls and then creeping further to drip off the tip of his cock onto the sheets. 

Yuta slips a finger in, nose wrinkling at the wet sound, and Jungwoo watches as the intrusion makes Mark's cock jump. Yuta presses more of his cum out of Mark, grinning at how Mark’s hole squeezes around his finger before widening, painting his knuckles creamy white. 

Jungwoo flicks Yuta’s wrist and replaces his finger with two of his own, reveling in the whine Mark lets out. Jungwoo coats his own fingers, tracing the path of the cum down Mark’s cock to collect every last drop. Then, he shifts back around to Mark’s front. 

With his clean hand, Jungwoo pulls Mark’s head up by the hair. Mark’s eyes are soft, vulnerable. Jungwoo wants to tear him apart. Instead, he settles for dragging the tip of a sticky finger across Mark’s bottom lip and watching his pretty pink tongue dart out to chase the wetness. 

“You are awful, Jungwoo,” Yuta claims, shaking his head and putting his hands back on Mark’s hips just for the fun of it. He loves the dips of Mark’s waist, the curves of his ass. 

Jungwoo just smiles. “I know,” and then he’s pushing his fingers into the warmth of Mark’s mouth, laying them flat against his tongue and feeling all the muscles of his cheeks and throat work to swallow the cum he’s being fed. “Mark’s not though, is he?”

“No,” Yuta responds, watching as best as he can from his position. “Mark is a good boy. The sweetest boy.” At this, Jungwoo watches those sweet eyes close. “The prettiest boy.” They crinkle in delight. Jungwoo spreads his fingers around Mark’s tongue and lets him lick up the mess between them. 

Hand clean, Jungwoo pulls his fingers out and cards them through Mark’s hair, tugging just to hear the little gasps he can entice. He taps Mark’s cheek gently. “On your back,” he demands, and reaches for the lube, trading positions with Yuta and straddling Mark’s thighs.

Mark isn’t sure he can take another cock. His hole feels sloppy, loose and bruised. He squirms around, not wanting to speak up and disappoint, but his worries are for nothing. Jungwoo wets his fingers and wraps them around Mark’s cock, gripping tight and dragging painfully slowly. 

“I stretched myself earlier.” Jungwoo has the audacity to blush, even as he twists his wrist and makes Mark’s head spin. “Thought about you with your cock down Yuta’s throat.”

Mark is genuinely going insane. He breathes out slowly, watches his dick twitch in Jungwoo’s grip and nearly comes right there at the mental picture of Jungwoo fingering himself open, a sight he’s familiar with and adores. He can hear the little whimpers, the pretty gasps, and reaches for Yuta’s hand to ground himself.

Jungwoo sinks onto Mark’s cock with a sigh, settling down with Mark’s entire length nestled inside himself, adjusting to the stretch. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, fingernails biting into his own thighs. Yuta settles himself next to Mark, mirroring the long line of his body on the bed and pulling his hand away to rest it on Mark’s chest, gazing intently at the juncture of Mark and Jungwoo’s bodies.

“You feel so good,” Jungwoo practically whispers. His eyes blink open to bore holes into Mark’s own. He holds the eye contact as he lifts his hips up, nearly pulling off Mark’s tip, before sinking down again with a groan. Mark winds his fingers into the sheets, aching to grip something hard enough to break, aching to roll up against Jungwoo, press even deeper into him, fuck him hard and fast and come inside his tight walls. Yuta scratches lines across Mark’s collarbones. 

Jungwoo goes slow at first, building a smooth rhythm that leaves himself moaning at every miniscule adjustment and Mark whining, high-pitched and desperate, at the warm, wet grip around his cock. A shudder visibly flits down Jungwoo’s spine each time Mark bottoms out.

Jungwoo fucks himself for a good minute, using Mark like a goddamn toy, until he bends forward to rest his hands on either side of Mark’s head and their position shifts. Mark can tell by the way Jungwoo’s eyes glaze over that the adjustment is welcome. 

“Fuck me, Mark,” Jungwoo murmurs, soft and slow. His words burn a hole right through Mark’s chest, spark flames that lick molten paths through his bones and make him grip Jungwoo’s hips like it's what his hands were made to do. 

Mark lets himself go completely, lets his instinct take over and make him fuck up into Jungwoo hard and fast until they’re both moaning without pause, just a continuous stream of noise that Yuta captures from both of their lips in turn, bending in and turning each of their chins with gentle fingers to meet him halfway. 

When Jungwoo looks down to meet Mark’s vulnerable stare, Yuta can practically see bolts of electricity passing between them. Mark’s lips are parted, swollen and spit-slick from Yuta’s own, and his eyes are glazed over and sparkling, the ocean in the sun. Jungwoo’s gaze holds similar depths with more focus, taking in every detail of Mark’s features and holding back the secret to breaking the boy’s composure.

Jungwoo turns that gaze on Yuta and lets his mouth drop open, chest rising and falling rapidly. Yuta allows himself to reach out and touch, to slide his fingers along the smooth curves of Jungwoo’s quivering bicep, and swallow roughly before speaking up, smirking, daring. “Are you gonna come?”

Jungwoo doesn’t deign to answer, instead choosing to rake his nails down Mark’s ribcage and make the boy cry out in his stead: “Yes! Yeah,” Mark swallows, hazy eyes fixed on the sharp angle of Jungwoo’s jaw. His hips stutter and Jungwoo’s muscles tighten around him. 

Yuta asks again, still holding Jungwoo’s gaze firmly, watching his nostrils flare every time Mark's erratic thrusts push his cock in deeper. “Are you gonna come for us, Mark? Are you gonna fill Jungwoo up? Make him all messy?”

Mark’s nodding frantically, blissed out and eager to please, to satisfy any craving the two could imagine asking of him. Jungwoo whines, burying his face in the crook of Mark’s neck and biting down to muffle his noises briefly before he’s sitting up, resting back on his haunches and planting himself firmly on Mark’s dick. Mark’s hips still, cock buried deep in Jungwoo’s ass.

The angle presses him right up against Jungwoo’s prostate, and Jungwoo’s hands come to rest over Mark’s on his thighs, nails biting into his own skin. His chest is heaving and all of his muscles are tense, squeezing Mark’s cock tight as a vice. 

Mark’s nose scrunches up as he groans. He’s so _hard_ and _overwhelmed_ and Jungwoo is wet and plush around him and he starts moving his hips again, he can’t help it, even as Jungwoo gasps and shakes on top of him. He pants out Jungwoo’s name, curses, twists around on the sheets when Yuta reaches out to roll one of his nipples between his fingers. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re close, baby.” Mark tosses his head back at Yuta’s words, feeling his stomach tighten and his legs tremble. Jungwoo’s palms are searing against the back of his hands, his thighs just as warm underneath. Mark grips into the soft flesh, wants to leave bruises.

“Jungwoo you’re so fucking tight.” Mark’s voice breaks, eyes squeezing shut, and every nerve in his body lights on fire. He bottoms out, nestling his cock as deep up inside Jungwoo as he possibly can, and comes, eyes flying open to meet Jungwoo’s heavy-lidded gaze. He shakes through the whole thing, body jerking against the mattress, nowhere to go so his hips just make a tiny circle, enticing sweet whimpers from Jungwoo as he moves.

Jungwoo can see the moment all the life drains out of him—all the excitement, the tension, the pleasure, breaking down into a spent face of elation as he finishes. He thinks Mark looks like he’s glowing, all hazy around the edges as his muscles give out and he collapses against the pillows. He’s looking up into Jungwoo’s eyes like he loves him, but Jungwoo pushes that thought from his mind as soon as it enters.

Yuta surges forward to plant a firm kiss on Mark’s lips, swiping his tongue across his teeth to capture the little gasps he’s letting out. Mark’s still trembling, chest soaked in sweat and cum and he looks so _pretty_ , Yuta could just eat him up. He says as much when he leans back to rest on his side. “Delicious.” He watches Mark’s already flushed cheeks darken, watches him chase the taste of Yuta’s mouth with the tip of his tongue, eyelashes fluttering, and moan.

It’s clear that Jungwoo has no plans to move. He sits fully upright, moves his hands behind himself to plant them firmly on each of Mark’s thighs, and lets Mark’s dick soften inside of him. His own cock is flushed, erect against his lower abdomen, and his lips pout a little when he looks down to Yuta. 

Yuta takes the hint and pushes up onto one elbow to gain easier access as he wraps his fingers around Jungwoo’s cock. Jungwoo sighs, throws his head back. Yuta presses a kiss to Mark’s cheek, tasting the salt of dried tears, and Mark turns his head to meet him in the middle. 

Mark’s eyes are exhausted, and Yuta can feel the boneless, hypersensitive state he’s slipping into just from the sloppiness of his kisses. Each time Jungwoo shifts in reaction to the pressure on his dick, Mark whines into Yuta’s lips. Yuta soothes him with his tongue, and listens to Jungwoo’s breath pick up in speed until he finally chokes out a soft moan and his nails bite deep into Mark’s skin. He comes over Yuta’s fist, spilling onto Mark’s stomach and adding to the mess. 

As Jungwoo lifts his hips, shaking, Mark’s cum spills out of him and back onto himself. He winces and pulls away from Yuta, letting his head thump back against the pillows, crinkling his nose at the sticky, conglomerative mess covering him from chest to thighs. Jungwoo mirrors Yuta on Mark’s other side, showering Mark’s cheek in gentle kisses and reaching across him to capture Yuta’s hand in a tight hold. 

Yuta watches Mark’s face flush and adds to Jungwoo’s physical gestures of affection with his own soft words, tongue curling around whispered praises. As much as each of them love to break Mark down, the putting back together of the pieces is even more enjoyable. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Yuta murmurs, low tone wrapping warmly around the three of them like a blanket. Jungwoo and Mark watch as he gets up—Jungwoo keeping their fingers interlaced until the last moment—and heads to the bathroom. 

Mark draws hearts on Jungwoo’s skin while they wait.

Yuta returns with two warm, damp cloths. When Mark and Jungwoo are clean, they all settle back against one another. Jungwoo pulls the covers up snug to their chins, then turns to grab the vaseline stashed in Mark’s bedside table. He swipes a gentle finger across Mark’s parted lips in all their flushed, stretched glory and laughs with Yuta when Mark makes as if to bite it. 

They nestle back down when Jungwoo is satisfied. 

Silence hangs in the air, buzzing and oppressive in its nothingness. Mark has two hands resting atop his stomach and neither of them are his. He closes his eyes at the ceiling and lets out a long breath through his nose. 

Yuta’s chin nudges his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

Mark sighs again, and moves to grip each of their wrists tightly. Jungwoo shifts, pressing himself impossibly closer. “Thank you,” Mark whispers. The tears threaten to return. 

Unseen by him, Yuta and Jungwoo share a gentle smile. A set of lips grazes either of Mark’s cheekbones, twin kisses that Mark will feel the ghosts of for days. “Sleep well,” Yuta breathes out against the crook of Mark’s shoulder, where he’s decided to settle.

Jungwoo opts to wrap one of his legs around Mark’s, and watches as the other two fall asleep. He caresses Yuta’s hand with his thumb and leans to press one last kiss to Mark’s cheek before drifting off himself, feeling sated and soft. 

***

Mark wakes up the next morning out for blood. “Dude,” he rasps, nudging Yuta off of him with his shoulder, “my back is on _fire.”_

Yuta just grins, raises a fist for a knuckle-bump that Jungwoo, still curled tightly against Mark’s chest, doesn’t give. “You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> look i just think theyre sexy. jungwoo and yuta could wreak some real havoc if their energy were ever channeled into a single act. mark would never stand a chance.
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated (especially if theyre about mark being a twink)!! 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/divinerenjun) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/divinerenjun)


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